


The 12 Days of Christmas

by trucefully



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Car Accidents, Christmas, Coma, Hospitals, M/M, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trucefully/pseuds/trucefully
Summary: "I wonder which one you would be. I mean, which testament. Maybe it depends on which one of us is older." I smiled tiredly at his hand. "One tells of the beginning, and one of the end. They complete each other, like the perfect story line. And without one..."I shifted my eyes up to his face, slack with slumber but tight with wounds and dressing. Each day he didn't wake up, a bit of him was lost to death. I swallowed, pulling his hand to my chest."...The other is lost."





	The 12 Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenightsflaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenightsflaws/gifts).



> A/N: so this whole story is in HUGE thanks to ao3 user Bastee for the idea that inspired this story, and for him keeping me properly motivated to write it at all. we bounce dyle ideas back and forth so he's basically going to be to thank for most of the things i have planned haha. thank you dear. <3 also i was a bit iffy with it but i'm glad to get it done and have something short out for christmas. so hope you enjoy and have a good holiday season! (PS, i'm posting it without editing. SORRY!)  
> also important: i am not religious. i was raised christian. but i am doing my best to represent the catholic religion as accurately as i can! i did a lot of research but if i get something wrong, feel absolutely free to correct it in the comments. i mean no disrespect at all.

**Day One**

"I've been reading up about a Christmas carol that gets stuck in my head every year. I thought I knew what it was, but it turns out that I never properly learned."

My audience was a man in a coma, and he just lay there like I hadn't spoken at all. He was faker than the holiday cheer that the nurses tried to force, working late into the night when they would rather be at home with their families. A selfish desire, to be living their lives instead of saving others. But was it really selfish? Who would anyone be to say which life mattered more? It all depended on whether you were an exhausted nurse napping behind your desk whenever you could, or a man comatose on a stiff bed. 

I was pacing around the room in the dark. The only light that still buzzed through the gloom was one above my present company's head, shining off the plastic tubes and his mask. His eyes were purple with bruises, and his head was wrapped in a bandage to protect the delicate spot where his skill was reconstructed. He didn't tell me to stop, so I didn't.

"Growing up, I was always under the impression that the 12 days of Christmas were leading up to Christmas. I guess I don't really know what made me think that. Maybe it was the fact that we always sang it before the holiday, but never after. Because as soon as the day passes, we let it go and move on to the next one.

"But that's not the case. The 12 days actually start on the day of Christmas itself. It ends on January 5th, the apparent day Christ was born. So that would make today the first day. The partridge in the pear tree."

My wandering feet took me to his beside. His hand was there to touch, but I was almost certain if he were awake, he would slap me away. So I sat at the very far corner of his bed and gazed upon his shattered face. The dim florescent light made him look pale and dead. I thought briefly that some Christmas lights might brighten him up a little. He had completely missed all the festivities while laying here.

"You ever wondered what the fuck a partridge is going up in a pear tree?" I whispered, leaning forward. "I always did. So I searched, and I found a lot of different answers. The song has Catholic roots. A partridge will fake being injured to lure predators away from their young. Kind of like Jesus being crucified. I mean, it's a stretch, but isn't all of religion?"

Only my laughter responded. The comatose man just lay there, breathing and nothing more. I rested my hand on his ankle briefly, then I turned my face to the window. My reflection in the glass faded into the background of the city lit up with Christmas lights and parties. We were both missing out.

"The pear has something to do with a battle of religion, I think. I don't remember. I don't really understand the bible or religion. But it seems to me like I should start trying to find it. 'Cause if you die, I'll be damned for sure."

We sat in silence, but not one that was peaceful or holy. Outside, fireworks were being shot into the snow sky. I watched the reds and greens spread across the clouds, trying to become stars and take their place in the sky. But they died out as fast as they came and plummeted back towards the earth.

Out in the halls of the hospital, someone began to sing. Someone meaning well, trying to bring cheer to ward off the illness and death for one sacred night.

" _O holy night, the stars are brightly shining..._ "

"They aren't stars. They're fireworks." I said, but the singing went on. There was nothing more somber and eerie than a carol in a building where people came to die. It creeped me out a bit, and I kept my hand on his ankle for comfort.

"Kyle Simmons, you're missing one very odd Christmas." I told the man in a deep slumber beside me.

Kyle didn't know, but he spent Christmas with me. My very first one in the big city, and I watched it all from the window of a hospital. The bright lights and bells ringing did absolutely nothing to make me feel any holiday cheer. I felt as cold on the inside as the snow on the ground, and as sad as the carol outside the door. No amount of flashing bulbs or biscuits would change that.

 

**Day Two**

"Dan! Wait up!" 

I paused my footsteps on the snowy sidewalk, looking over my shoulder towards the voice. The roads were absolutely devoid of any people, except for the girl jogging towards me. Her blonde ombre hair billowed around her face with puffs of frozen air from her lungs. Despite the frigid temperatures and piles of powder she had to move through, she was beaming.

"Hi Este." I held out my arm, and she happily clung to it. "What brings you out here to early?"

"This is when holiday candy goes on sale, and I'm all about discount chocolate." She laughed, laying her head against my shoulder. "Didn't anticipate everything being so quiet. Weird, isn't it?"

I nodded my agreement, and we continued walking. If she wasn't headed towards the hospital originally, she would wind up there now. That's just how Este went, with the breeze of winter air.

When she realized we were headed to a different side of town than where my dorm was, she looked up at me curiously. "What are  _you_  up to this morning?"

"I have to see someone." I said shortly, keeping my eyes fixated on my path.

Este hummed, nodding to herself. She was thinking deeply, because she wasn't going on mindlessly about any sort of thing that came to her tongue.

"I missed you at Woody's party." She said finally.

We had planned on going together, but I hadn't anticipated Kyle. I didn't know that I would lock eyes with him through the glowing amber window of a shop. I couldn't predict that his smile would melt every bit of bitter cold that was in my veins. I couldn't even dream that I would hurry off with blush staining my cheeks, and he would abandon his Christmas shopping to ask for my number. I couldn't ever know that I would wind up killing him.

"Sorry. Stuff came up." That was it, that was my best excuse. I couldn't even look at her when I said it. The chill in my heart seeped into my words, and Este flinched.

"Oh." She tried to sound understanding, but it fell flat. "Alright. Well, maybe I'll see you sometime?"

I slowed to a stop to release her form my company. "Sure. Sometime."

We left it at that, empty promises. She was hurt, and I was otherwise occupied with no interest in soothing her feelings. She smiled at me, pressing her holly red lips to my cheek briefly before letting me go. She left wordlessly in search of that chocolate, or maybe a morning drink now to ease the sting of my rejection.

Whatever direction she took, I had a clear path to the same hospital I had been visiting daily. I didn't expect any change in Kyle, but I held on to hope that maybe eh would stir. Maybe we could talk, and I could fall to my knees and repent. Beg for forgiveness. 

The room was as dreary as ever when I came inside. Kyle was in the exact same position, and he was alone. My heart ached to think that I may be his only visitor, when I was the one that landed him in that be din the first place. If he were conscious, he would probably call security on me and have me thrown out.

Kyle looked even worse today. I walked quietly to the side of his bed, as though I was afraid of waking him. I slid a chair over and sat down beside him.

"It's the second day, Kyle. Two turtle doves. The old and new testament, because they complete each other like lovers. And doves are symbolic for love, y'know?"

Kyle's hear monitor beeped steadily, keeping the same rhythm that it had for the past while, since he was stabilized and thrown in this room to waste away.

Today, I dared to touch his hand. He was really warm despite how dead he looked, and I warmed my icy hands in his palm.

"I wonder which one you would be. I mean, which testament. Maybe it depends on which one of us is older." I smiled tiredly at his hand. "One tells of the beginning, and one of the end. They complete each other, like the perfect story line. And without one..."

I shifted my eyes up to his face, slack with slumber but tight with wounds and dressing. Each day he didn't wake up, a bit of him was lost to death. I swallowed, pulling his hand to my chest.

"...The other is lost."

 

**Day Three**

Two days after Christmas, and people were already starting to take everything down. Lights, bows, little snowmen, and trees were being dismantled all around the city. The anticipation built all month for one day, and then it was hastily swept away as though it didn't matter. It was almost disheartening to really notice it this time around. In years past, I was instantly swept up with the excitement of the New Years. Now, time was dragging on painfully slow, and every detail was vivid.

I stood in the corner of one of the lobbies where family members could get their distance from the rooms of their loved ones. They mostly came here to cry or make phone calls. 

Today it was just me. I was leaning back on one of the couches, sipping on lukewarm coffee to try and keep myself away. The snow was coming down too heavy outside to walk, and a taxi probably wouldn't be able to make it. So I had a night with Kyle to look forward to. Even though he wouldn't be present, I still felt nervous. 

Two nurses were taking down the streamers and ornaments around me as best they could. I would normally have moved out of their way, but that would mean going back to Kyle's room.

One of the nurses, a thin woman with a dark brown bob, stopped by the edge of my couch. "You okay, love?"

It took me a second to realize she was speaking to me. "Oh, yes. Yes. Thank you."

She smiled warmly. "How about Kyle? You noticing any changes?"

I studied her face, realizing I had dodged hastily out of her way a few times before as she was coming in to tend to him. She knew there was no change probably better than I did. Why was she asking me? "Um... No. He's the same. Why?"

"Sometimes no change is just as good as improvement." She said kindly. She lifted up a pile of Christmas-themed coloring books and a box of crayons, setting them into my lap. "One thing I can guarantee, though. You talking to him is keeping him stable."

I looked at the books, then up at her in confusion. "Do you really think so?"

"I do. I've seen my share of coma cases. They always do better when they have friends and family there to keep them company. Don't lose hope, okay? He'll come back to you." She ruffled my hair, then went back to carefully boxing baubles.

Quietly, I stood up with my books and colouring supplies, and I walked myself back to Kyle's room without any further hesitation. What she said stuck with me, focused me on getting Kyle back.

Kyle, of course, was the same. But this time it didn't upset me to see that. He wasn't going down, so he still had a chance. I climbed up onto the foot of his bed and dropped the colouring supplies onto his legs.

"The third day symbolizes three virtues." I told him, grabbing the nearest book and flipping through the pages. I found a blank page with a Christmas tree on it, dumping out the crayons by my crossed legs. "Faith, hope, and love. There is nothing more pure than those three things. And I think I've been having a proper lack of them in my life recently. Even before you. But now is as good a time as any to start."

I picked up a dark green crayon and started colouring in the branches, careful to make it look  nice for a man who might never get to see it.

"I have hope, Kyle. Lord knows I'm working on faith. Maybe not in a divine being, but we can start with a faith in modern medicine. As far as love..." I glanced at him shyly, suddenly self-conscious that he could hear me. "Well, not yet. But I can work on it if you still want to. I gave you my number, remember? Must count for something. If you want to get to the first date, you have to wake up. I guess if you wanna beat me up you have to be awake for that, too."

The books on Kyle's legs shifted. I froze, staring at them for a long time. They could have just slipped. Maybe I bumped them. I glanced up to his face, which was ever the same. 

"Come back, Kyle." I moved the books off of him, studying his face closely. "You wanna resolve shit with me? Then wake up."

He didn't move. I sighed, slowly returning to my colouring. The silence was a bit too much, so I hummed along to all the Christmas songs bouncing in my head and coloured Kyle a very late Christmas.

 

**Day Four**

I woke up feeling warm, but somewhat cramped. I had no idea where I was, but I pressed my face into the scratchy blanket and tried to chase a few more seconds of sleep.

"Sir." A  voice and a hand on my leg startled me awake. I pushed myself up, blinking rapidly until the nurse I talked briefly with the night before came into focus. She had that same warm smile. "Kyle's mother is coming, and she's bringing a priest. You might want to make yourself scarce, love."

My brain steadily caught up to the situation. I had been asleep at the foot of Kyle's bed, which I probably wasn't allowed to do. The pictures I had coloured in were hung all around the room by some stickers I found in the back of one of the books. Mrs. Simmons and I had never met, but she apparently kept signing me as someone who was fine to have extended visits with her son. She placed me at a status reserved for family, when Kyle and I were barely more than strangers.

I wasn't eager to meet her. I was afraid that if she realized she didn't know me, she would have me thrown out. I could get into a lot of trouble. So I scrambled off of the bed, gathering my papers and crayons. The nurse quietly helped me, allowing me to stash them on her cart.

Before I left, I stood beside Kyle, leaning over him. "Four calling birds. That's Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They were Evangelists, spreading the gospel everywhere they went. It looks like you're going to be getting some preaching as well. Hang tight."

Kyle's chest rose and fell at an even pace. His face was a little less swollen, and his bruises were starting to fade at the edges. I hoped his healing was a good sign, but I didn't really get to know in depth about his medical status. All I got to know was that he wasn't getting worse. I smoothed a hand carefully across his bandaged head, then leaned back.

I turned to the nurse, who gave me a concerned look. We both looked at the door to Kyle's room.  A woman stood there, her coat clutched in her arms with a man in all black by her side. She stared me down with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Dan?" She asked, her voice no more expressive than her features.

"Yes ma'am." I said softly.

She nodded, motioning the priest inside. "I would like some time with my son, please."

Wordlessly, I moved out of their way and followed the nurse out the door. I kept my eyes on the floor, and the two of us walked to the lounge. She guided me to sit on the couch, and took the spot next to me. I looked at her warily, and she smiled.

"That must be a conflict right there. Mum so religious with a son who seems to be straying from that." She patted my knee sympathetically. I shrugged, no idea how to tell her that I had never met the woman before. "I'm a believer in God myself. My name is Anne. Do you know God, Dan?"

Again, I shrugged. "No, not really. I wasn't raised religious."

"But you've been telling Kyle about the 12 days of Christmas." Anne commented.

"I've been reading up. It's good conversation."

Anne chuckled, leaning back against the couch. We both listened to the sounds of the hospital. The beeping, the rushed voices, the crying. It smelled like disinfectant and vomit at the same time, and it was starting to give me a headache.

"I think that God has got a special blessing in store for you, Dan. Don't let her bringing a priest in here scare you. I do believe he's going to wake up."

"Why would a priest scare me?" I asked, my eyes unfocused on the matted rug patterns.

Anne placed a hand on my back. "Usually the family brings in a priest to bless when they think their loved one is going to die." She whispered, patting my back when she felt me tense up. "But I do believe he'll be okay."

I spaced out, blocking all sounds and her continued touches of comfort I wasn't so sure anymore that no change meant good things.

 

Day Five

Kyle's moms till had be registered to visit. She didn't speak to me before she left. It was an hour or two before nurse Anne informed me that the room was vacant again, and I squeezed a few more hours in with Kyle before I forced myself to go home.

The next day after a day spent in my dorm catching up on uni work, I found myself directly back where I always was. Days in the hospital were ordinary now, and I scarcely recalled what life was like before all this. I crossed the laminate floor with my jacket zipped tight and my backpack slung over my shoulder, giving the desk lady a friendly smile as I approached. She knew who I was now, and who I was always signing in to see.

Before either of us could get a word of greeting out to each other, hysteria broke loose in the lobby.

A man stumbled in, clutching his stomach and dripping liquid on to the floor. I heard the splash of it before I even turned around to see blood leaking from him in a trail leading from the sliding doors. He was absolutely stained in dark red, and he was losing it all over the ground.

A woman and her children waiting nearby screamed. The receptionist slammed a button to call in emergency help, then rushed to the bleeding man with a pathetic first aid kid. I stood away from the chaos, shocked and absolutely useless. All I could think about was how he got the wrong doors. The ER was the next section over.

The receptionist did her best, but the man was already gone by the tie he hit the ground, soaking in the blood he shed. The nurses made insanely fast time coming in with a stretcher, but they still weren't fast enough. It was mind-boggling how quickly his life fled right in front of us. They ran him away as though he could be saved, but even I knew that was it for him.

After the rushing party left, there was an eerie calm. The receptionist gathered herself, then left the lobby without a word. It was just me, the crying family, and a massive bloodstain on the ground. I leaned against the front desk, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

A cleaning crew came in and softly discussed how to go about handling the mess. Soon after, another nurse came in to cover check ins. She signed me in quietly, giving me a pass with a tired smile. "You alright sir?"

"Fine." I said, picking my bag off the ground. "Thank you."

The walk to Kyle's room went by in a flash. I didn't register anything until I came through the door. No change. He was constant. But when I looked at him now, I could only recall how he was; twisted into painful angles on the ground, his blood splattered on the snowy street. I recalled being like the receptionist, kneeling in the mess beside him and trying to fight the inevitable. Maybe that man would live, but only if he had machines doing the living for him.

I dropped my bag on the floor along with my jacket, my eyes focused on Kyle the entire time. I kicked off my boots, then walked over to his bed, sitting at my chair that was always there. This time, I dared to lay my head by his arm. I traced my fingertips down his skin, trembling so badly I feared I would knock the tubes out of his arm.

"The five golden rings represent the five books of the old testament." My voice wavered as badly as my hands. "They likened them to precious metals because, in their eyes, there was nothing held at a higher value. Some material rock that you wear to show status. I can think of a million things more precious tome than stupid rings, or stories in a book. Most of them aren't even tangible. They're moments. Seconds in time that I wouldn't trade away for all the gold in the world."

My fingers laced with his limp ones, and I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took those moments from you. I'm so sorry..."

Kyle's breathing continued on. It didn't change, and I was afraid it never would. Maybe it would have been more merciful to him if he had just died on the side of the road, and avoided living out his days suspended in consciousness. 

 

**Day Six**

Saturday brought odd amounts of sunshine to the city. It didn't do much to warm the temperature outside, but it was nice to sit by the window and let the rays soak into my skin. I was warm and drowsy, counting each time Kyle breathed until my mind started to fade out.

Nurse Anne came in with her cart to check on Kyle's vitals. I sat up a little straighter, but she raised her hand to stay me. "It's alright, love. Just checking in."

I yawned, leaning back in my chair and resting my cheek in the palm of my hand. I watched her lazily, already starting to nod off again.

"You two not having any good conversations today?" Anne asked as she wrote something down on her clipboard.

I blinked, glancing at Kyle as though he might answer the question. "Well... I told him this morning that the six geese laying are for the six days of creation. And it makes sense, the creation of the eggs and all. But... Well, today would be the sixth day. Because He rested on Sunday, right?"

"That's right." Anne nodded.

"What did he create on the last day? I never read the story."

Anne laughed, and my cheeks flushed with heat. "Love, there's a bible in the drawer by Kyle's bed. Go ahead and grab it, I'll show you right where to look."

I slid out of my chair and did as I was instructed. The drawer was completely empty except for a King James version of the bible. I picked it up, then sat down on the corner of Kyle's bed across from her.

"Open up to Genesis, the start of it all. Chapter one, and I believe that it starts about verse 24." She waited patiently for me to flip to the correct page, squinting to read the tiny font. "On the last day, God created all the animals of the Earth. And very last of all, He created man and woman in his image. You and I came to be on the sixth day."

I read over the small passages, but I didn't get that special feeling I always heard about when someone knew the word was true. It sounded far-fetched to me. But I didn't tell Anne that, because I could see the love on her face as she told me her stories.

She reached across Kyle and grasped my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "God created you in His perfect image, Dan. Don't forget that. Whatever happens, you are perfect by nature, flawed by the world. But the worldly scars can be healed through God."

I bit the bottom of my lip, looking back down to Kyle. If he died, murder would be very hard to wash clean, even in the merciful eyes of God Himself.

Anne left me with Kyle and a bible in my lap. I set the book aside, working hard to keep my tears at bay. I waited a while to make sure that Anne wouldn't pop back in.

"I don't feel perfect, Kyle. I don't even feel like I have the potential to be that way. Before I landed you in this hospital, I still felt like a walking mistake. A person so mangled and hideous, not even my own mother could love me. Not on the surface, but in my core. I was always destined to drag around heartache and strife. I'm sorry I brought it to you."

I hadn't cried yet. Not at any point during all of this mess. But now I couldn't stop the tears. They dripped from my eyes and landed on my shirt, freckling the white fabric with grey stains. My tears were as silent as snowflakes landing on the streets. If I tried to speak more, I would surely lose my composure and start screaming.

I laid down with Kyle. My head rested on his chest where I could hear his heartbeat match the beeping of his monitor. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about how we fit together so perfectly, even in a small space. It was like God created me to be able to lay by his side, and feel complete. The old and new testament coming together to create the whole, perfect truth of Gods and miracles.

"Maybe my flaws match up with yours, like a jigsaw puzzle." I whispered to him. Something about him felt different now, though his condition was practically static. Maybe I was imaging things, but I could swear he was warmer than before.

I closed my eyes, burying my damp face against his chest. "Maybe you were made for me."

 

**Day Seven**

In the night, Kyle's head had shifted ever so slightly so his cheek was resting against my head. His breathing mask hit awkwardly against my skin, nearly shifting off his face. My heart beat wildly, and I moved myself carefully away from his side.

Did I move so much that I jostled his head? I felt sore form staying in the same position for so long. The only time I remembered moving in the night, I had shifted to rest my head against the curve of his neck. I could have swore I was delicate in that move so I wouldn't disrupt the fragile tubes and mask.

Had  _he_  been the one to move?

That thought scared me even more. I quickly tilted his head back into place and adjusted his mask once more. He seemed fine, but I was petrified something would go wrong. Maybe he didn't get enough oxygen, and it would fuck something up in his brain. Maybe he was steps closer to dying because he couldn't breathe properly. I got off of the bed, watching him closely for a long time.

He looked the same. A little ruffled from where I had spent the night cuddled by his side. I longed so badly to crawl back into my spot and sleep away the cold Sunday morning. But what right did I have, laying with Kyle as though he liked me? If he were in the position to tell me anything, he would probably yell at me to fuck off, not to sleep by his side. I went to him for my own selfish comfort, and that made me feel terrible.

"I'm sorry." I said, taking a step away from his bed. I didn't know how many more times I could apologize. I kept treating him like shit, and saying sorry to his empty shell like it made things right.

"The seven swans are the seven sacraments." I hugged myself, looking down at the floor. "Baptism, Eucharist, Confirmation, Reconciliation, Anointing of the Sick, Marriage, and Holy Orders. Can't say that I've ever experienced any of them. I imagine baptism feels a lot like the new year. Washing away your sins, finding the light. Getting a fresh start at things. Don't you think?"

Kyle breathed on. His head didn't move and his legs didn't twitch. He made no sign that he was there. I sighed, pacing over to him and smoothing out his sheets, trying to make it look like I was never there.

It was the last day of the year. I had moved to the city about mid-summer, and when I thought forward to holidays from that time, I thought I would be visiting my sister back at home. But I cancelled. I didn't tell her, I just simply didn't show up. She had been calling my phone periodically since Christmas, but I didn't return the calls. If I did, I would have to admit what was happening. Then it would be too real.

I left the ever-slumbering Kyle and stepped into the bathroom attached to his room. I shut the door and locked it, trying to think through the fog that was coating my brain enough to operate the shower.

The hot water on my back soothed away ll my thoughts and worries. Like the splash of the apostles in the river, I felt as though I was washing away my sins in a modern day baptism. The weight of 365 days hanging above my head, but the promise of their end made me a little more optimistic. Maybe the worst of this way about to pass.

I looked down at the shower brain, and that sinking feeling of dread returned. My knees were bruised and scraped still. Kyle got banged up pretty badly, but all that happened to me was a little breaking of the skin.

The image of Kyle laying on the side of the road came back from my memories like a tidal wave. His blood was all over the snow, and traffic had stopped. My head was spinning, and i slipped and stumbled as I tried to get to him. He looked like a broken doll. I grabbed his jacket, kneeling beside him and begging him to wake up. He couldn't die, not like this. Not because of me. Oh, God...

I slid down and sat on the floor of the shower, shaking all over and finding it hard to take in any air. I tried to shut my eyes and black out the horrific images. The cars stopping, the blood on the snow, Kyle on the street, begging him to wake up...

Since that day, he hadn't opened his eyes again.

 

**Day Eight**

Cheers and bells rang through the halls of the hospital at the strike of midnight. I had fallen asleep again at Kyle's side, my arm draped over his stomach and my head on his shoulder. I blinked slowly, looking out the window at the fireworks that overtook the horizon. Last year was officially behind us, and the brand new set of days were already ticking away.

"Happy new year, Kyle." I smiled, closing my eyes and listening to the muffled bursts of fireworks. He was warm beside me, and if I thought hard enough, I could almost imagine he was awake and watching the sky. I sighed softly, and I felt content.

A knock at Kyle's door nearly made me jump off the bed. I looked over my shoulder at the cracked entryway. 

Nurse Anne was standing in the door with her tray. She smiled at me. "Mind if I join you two for a while?"

"Not at all." I carefully got off of Kyle's bed, pulling two chairs to the other side and setting them up in front of the window. Anne wheeled the cart over and handed me a warm mug as I sat down. I looked at it, then at her quizzically. 

"What did the eight maids milking stand for?" She asked as she sat beside me.

I looked at the mug and the steaming white liquid inside. I smiled at her. "The eight beatitudes from the sermon on the mount. Which are as rich as our mother's milk."

She grinned. "You're very smart for a boy who doesn't go to church. Deuteronomy 27:3, ' _...That thou mayst enter into the land Thy Lord God will give thee, a land flowing with milk and honey, as He swore to thy fathers._ ' I'm not God, but I did put milk and honey into your mug."

"Thank you." I said, taking a sip of the drink. The flavor was strange, but sweet and good. I wished Kyle could try it. I wondered for the millionth time how long it would be before he woke up.

Anne leaned back in her chair, watching the golden sparks raining down from the sky. "So, Dan. What is your New resolution?"

"Somehow make it through the first year of university." I laughed. "Kyle's is to wake up before the year is out."

Anne and I both laughed at that, and I glanced over at Kyle's resting face. I got the impression that if he could hear us, he would be smiling as well. When we first met, he teased me for running away after seeing his "ugly" face for just a few seconds. I tried to tell him that I was just flustered by a cute boy grinning at me, but he took all the air from my lungs in the best way.

"My resolution is to quit working so I can raise my babies." Anne said, reeling me out of my thoughts. 

"You have children?" I asked, frowning. "But you're here so often..."

She nodded. "I don't mind it, really. I'm still taking care of babies, no matter their age. Everyone is some mother's child. But I would like to be there for mine as they grow up."

I sipped the milk, nodding slowly. "I can imagine you being a good mum. I hope you get to quit, too."

"And I hope you make it through uni. I hope Kyle is there to see it."

We eased into a comfortable silence, drinking our war milk and thinking about the year ahead of us. I did hope that Kyle would wake up. Not just for my selfish hope that he would accept an apology from me. He was wasting so much of his precious life unable to wake up, and that was because of me. He needed to get up and get prepared for a whole new year, with or without me.

 

**Day Nine**

I spent the morning telling Kyle about the nine choirs of angels, and how their song was as graceful and swift as a dancer, moving to execute His orders and the music of heaven. It was a beautiful morning, speaking in a quiet voice and watching the sun rise in the pink sky over the frosty buildings. I held his bandaged hand on top of his chest the whole time, rubbing my thumb in circles over his knuckles.

While we were close together, and I whispered to him about angels and heavenly music, Kyle's hand twitched in mine. I had frozen in place, my musing of the afterlife stopped. I hadn't imagined it. I didn't accidentally move him. Kyle's hand twitched on its own. I looked at his face, and it was somehow different. I whispered, his name, but the changes ceased.

It scared me. It scared me enough to make me gather my things and take a cab back to my dorm. I wanted Kyle to be awake. I hoped more than anything that he would. But I didn't want to be the first person he saw when it happened. I especially didn't want him to know I had taken to sharing his bed with him. I needed time to gather my thoughts, make a list of things I needed to apologize for. The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became.

When Woody saw the light on in my dorm, he practically broke down my door to ask about where the fuck I had been. He ranted for a while about me ditching him, but I was barely paying attention. Somehow, I agreed to go to a party with him at his friend's house to make up for my absence. 

And that's where I found myself. Crammed on a couch between Woody and his friend Craig, holding a plastic cup full of beer. I definitely wasn't into the swing of it, and everyone probably thought I was on something from how distant I was.

The small sofa held me, Woody, Craig, Este, and a hulking man named Rory. They were all properly drunk while I had barely sipped my beer, lost in my own thoughts. This morning I was speaking of angels, and now I felt as thought I was surrounded by demons. The music pulsing and shaking the table definitely wasn't a heavenly choir. I felt as if at any second the sheer intensity of it all would make me leap out of my skin.

"Dan! Hey, mate. Rory asked you a question." Woody snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"Huh?" I blinked, looking across Craig to the other man. "Sorry, what?"

"Just asked how you were." Rory leaned in. "Y'know, after Kyle got smashed by that car."

My blood turned to ice. Este gasped. "Dan! Honey, was that why you didn't show for the party?"

"Wait, what? When the fuck did this happen?" Woody gaped at me.

My mouth was too dry to answer. Rory, ignoring my discomfort, painted the whole story for our friends. "Don't know exactly how it got to this, but Kyle Simmons fuckin' saved Dan's life. Pushed him out of the way of a car that was out of control on the ice. Poor guy got flipped over the damn roof, though. He was in one of my classes."

"Did you know him? Is he okay?" Este pressed, her eyes locked onto me with concern. 

I shook my head numbly. "No, I... He was asking for my number. We were strangers. He's in a coma now."

Craig, who had been quietly listening, suddenly cracked up. "What a way to go!" He laughed, slapping his leg. "Man just wanted some action, and he gets hit by a car! Make a man prove himself by dying for your number, eh?"

The other tried not to laugh, but the alcohol desensitized them to the situation. They all were cackling, and I was about to break down into tears.

Este didn't laugh. When I stood up, so did she. I tried to lose her as I ran through the crowds of people. I made it out onto the front doorstep before she caught me. Her slender arms hugged me from behind, stopping me from running off into the night.

"I'm so sorry, Dan." She murmured, turning me around and hugging my neck tightly. I lost any former control, sobbing into her sweater like a terrified child. She stroked my hair, shushing me softly. "It's going to be alright, sweetheart. You'll both be alright."

 

**Day Ten**

Este slept in my dorm, even though it was against the rules. I had a proper break down, sobbing and hyperventilating long into the night. She refused to leave me, her own cheeks damp with years while she did her best to calm me down. We passed out in each others arms from pure exhaustion. 

When I woke the following day, I felt as if I drank twice the amount that Este did. She was sleeping on her stomach, showing no signs of waking. I slipped out of my bed quietly and got dressed. I had a duty to fulfill this morning.

The taxi ride over took a little longer. I didn't mind delaying the visit today. After last night, I had a lot to say to Kyle. A lot of hard goodbyes to make.

My feet dragged as I walked through the familiar hallway. I could see Kyle's door, open and waiting for me like it always was. I was already crying before I even stepped inside.

Kyle was on his bed. When I saw him now, he looked like he was in a coma, and more like he was fast asleep. His facial wounds were healing well, and the bruises on his arms were more of a mild yellowish-green instead of dark purple. The beeping of his monitor was steady. His breathing was steady. He was steady.

I sat on the edge of his bed, then threw caution to the wind and laid beside him one last time. I kissed his forehead gently, my tears dripping onto his bandages.

"In the theme of everything we've talked about, I bet you could guess what the tenth day is." I said, stroking his warm cheek with my thumb. "The commandments. Ten very simple rules etched into some rock that should keep you on the path to holiness, ensure you a spot in heaven. I... I broke one of them. One I can't turn back from, Kyle."

He looked so peaceful, and it twisted my heart into horrible shapes, breaking me on a deep level. He shouldn't look so restful, he was dying. It would almost be more comforting to know he was in pain, so maybe I could see his death as something of a relief. But he looked fine. He _was_  fine until I happened to him. It wasn't fair that he had to have his life taken away in substitute of mine.

"I wish it were me." I sobbed weakly, laying my head on his chest. "I wish you would have just let that fucking car grind me into the pavement. It's not fair. Your life is worth so much more than mine, and you proved it by shoving me away form that car. So why is it you have to die, and I have to keep living? Your blood is on my hands... I killed you, Kyle. I murdered you. I-"

My voice got too choked up to continue. I hugged him, cried on him, wished he would just wake up already. But I was almost certain at this point that he wouldn't. I would be in hell the rest of my days knowing that I took his life from him. Whether he was kept on a machine that forced air into him, or they took him off and he finally passed away. His life was over. His final chapter was spent saving some lowlife bastard on the street.

I didn't deserve to be near him. I didn't deserve the past days where I found comfort in holding him. I didn't deserve to even speak his name.

"I have to go now." I whispered, lifting myself up on unsteady arms. Seeing his face only made me want to stay. But I forced myself to look at his sleeping face and say, "Goodbye, Kyle. I'm so sorry. I really am."

I bent down, pressing my lips against his breathing mask. I lingered there a moment, then drew away. He remained the same. That made it a bit easier to crawl off of his bed and back away towards the door.

I watched him for a few moments, burning the image of him into my brain to always remember what I had done, and never let myself be forgiven for it. Not even by God Himself.

Walking out of the hospital, I knew that I was leaving pieces of myself in the walls of that damned place. The story Kyle and I created would be left unfinished. A lost book in the infinite folds of history and religion. A beginning that I left with no definite end.

 

**Day Eleven**

I spent all my time losing myself in hours studying at the library. Este, like a worried mother, hovered around me and made sure that I took care of my basic needs. It was my first full day without Kyle, without telling him what the eleventh day meant in the song. He was never conscious during those little stories, but I always felt like he was listening. I missed that. I missed him. I even missed the lumpy hospital bed I shared with him.

Este had brought in two coffees, and I sipped on it quietly while flipping through the pages of it quietly the pages of a history book. I didn't need to read it for any classes I was taking, but it was the only thing I could think of to numb my mind to the point that I couldn't think about the day before.

After the fourth consecutive hour of not speaking, Este finally broke the silence. "Are you going to see Kyle after this? I could give you a lift."

I flinched, hunching over the book. "No."

"Why?" She asked, but I ignored her. She was there that night, drunk or not. She knew what I did to him. I didn't want to say it again, or I would start crying in the middle of the library.

Her hand slammed onto my book, pulling it across the table. I looked up in shock at her intense eyes staring me down.

"You didn't kill him." She said finally, never taking her eyes off mine. "Him getting hit wasn't your fault. You didn't ask him to push you out of the way. He made that choice. It can't even be the fault of the driver, they hit some ice. I really don't even think there's blame to place. It was a lot of freak chances and unfortunate outcomes. And just because Kyle saved you doesn't make it your fault."

I could feel tears rushing to my eyes, and i shook my head slowly. "It should be me in the coma, not him."

"Why?" Este challenged.

"Because he doesn't deserve it." I snapped. "He should live. It wouldn't matter if I were in his place."

Grabbing my hand, Este lowered her voice to a serious tone. "Dan, who are you to decide his life is worth more than yours?" Her question startled me into silence. She relaxed her grip a bit on my hand, sighing. "I would bet money that if you had been hit, Kyle would spend every day by  _your_  side, wishing he would have done something to save you. Don't torment yourself like this, Dan. You don't deserve it."

"But..." I hiccuped, wiping my tears with my free had. "He saved me. He gave up his life for mine."

Este chuckled. "That's another thing. He's not dead, Dan. Stop feeling guilty before he's even in the ground. He very well could be awake right now, on the road to recovery. And you're hiding in books."

"I wouldn't even know what to say..."

"Have you tried saying thank you?"

Again, I was struck wordless by her simple logic. I had been so blinded by grief and self-pity, I hadn't even thought to thank him. I just kept telling him how sorry I was and worsening the guilt and anxiety in my own mind.He probably wouldn't want to hear me apologizing or thanking him, but showing appreciation would be better than him thinking I stuck by him out of guilt. I felt guilty as hell, but I visited daily because I liked to. Because I wanted more time with him. Because I felt safe. How would he ever know that if I only told him how sorry I was?

I laid my head on the table in my arms. "You probably think I'm stupid." I said, muffled by my jacket.

Este scooted her chair beside mine, and she rested her cheek against my shoulder blade. "Not stupid. Hurt and scared, yes.Maybe a little dramatic. But not stupid."

Despite my crying, I laughed at that. I sat up and grabbed her into a hug, burying my face in her silky hair and letting myself calm down. She held me patiently.

"Hey Este?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for helping me, even if I kind of lead you on and ditched you for some guy I just met. I do believe an apology for that is in order. So, I'm sorry for being a douche."

She smacked the back of my head lightly, snickering. "Apology accepted. At least make it worth my devastating heartbreak. Go back to him, Dan."

 

**Day Twelve**

On a late Friday morning, I finally gathered the courage to go back. It was sunny, and I tried to soak in the warmth and let it melt my anxieties. I kept telling myself that Kyle would be exactly as I left him, and we could resume our days in each other's presence. And instead of apologizing over and over, I would tell him how thankful I was for what he did, and that he was still alive.

But when I got there, things had changed.

The receptionist cheerfully directed me to a new room. I pretended like I already knew he was moved, but it was definitely a blow to my comfort. But I wouldn't let it deter me. Just the thought of being with him made me feel drowsy and safe. I kept my head down and moved onward to the new location.

If I had been taking in my surroundings, I might have noticed why he was moved. I found his door, and it was slightly open as it always was. Without much thought, I opened it and stepped inside.

I thought I had gotten the wrong room. The patient in this bed had no tubes or mask. He was sitting up in his bed, watching the traffic outside his window. He didn't notice me come in at first, enough time for me to take in how worried he looked. I took a step backwards, but when I did, the movement caught his eye.

Kyle turned his head, and his troubled expression was overtaken with excitement. "Dan!" He exclaimed, grinning and holding out a hand to me. "There you are. I was worried you wouldn't-"

I was already rushing to him before he could finish speaking. Whatever reaction and speech I had planned out in my head was absolutely lost to the desire to get my mouth pressed to his. I ignored his hand and cupped his face, leaning in and kissing him desperately. I had the brief through that he might not want that, but that fear was quickly eliminated when he dragged me onto  the bed, kissing me back with equally force. His fingers up my back and in my hair left me shivering and breathless. He cradled me to his chest, slowing down the kiss even though I couldn't bear to have it end.

"I missed you yesterday." He whispered as his lips drew away from mine. "And this bed felt too big without you."

My eyes widened. "You know about all that?"

Kyle nodded, resting his bandaged forehead against mine. "It all felt kind of... Far away, I guess. Like a dream. But I listened to you tell me about the 12 days of Christmas, and I could feel you sleeping by my side. It was soothing to hear your voice and have you there. And when you said goodbye, I kind of panicked. And next thing I knew I was waking up. But you were gone."

I automatically went to apologize, but I remembered the conversation with Este. Kyle's soft brown eyes were searching my face for a response. I smiled at him, hugging him close to me. We settled back in the bed, comfortable with our arms around each other and my head on his shoulder. 

"Thank you for everything, Kyle. Not just for practically committing suicide for me, but for every moment I got to spend with you here. It's been... I don't know, eye-opening I guess. Revolutionary. And I'm hoping that it won't have to end when you get out of here... I'd like to see a lot more of you."

Kyle gasped, and I jumped a little, looking at him worriedly. He put a hand on my cheek. "Wait, does this mean that I've already scored a first date?"

I blinked. "Well, yeah. And any amount after you'd like to take."

"And to think all it took was me becoming roadkill for you to fall in love with me." Kyle beamed. "Amazing. As soon as I can walk without a nurse following me around, I'm going to take you on the best date you've ever had, Dan."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't keep a smile from my lips. Even if I had gotten to know him while he was sleeping, I was already attached to him. "We've been on dates, you dork." I said, kissing his cheek and causing him to blush. "It was just mostly me talking, and you listening whether you wanted to or not. We might have to just do dates where I sit around while you sleep and tell you history you couldn't care less about, just until I get used to you being awake."

We both laughed, and Kyle brought his face close to mine. I closed my eyes, feeling his nose brush mine and his fingers tracing down my arm. Having him here and responding to my touches, laughing at my words was different. But for once, I didn't fear the change. I only feared that I was the one dreaming now, and I would have to wake up to a world where he wasn't there. But that fear fleeted when he kissed me and made me feel more alive than I ever had.

"Hey Dan? There's something I'm dying to know." Kyle asked, his expression serious.

"What's what?"

"You've completely missed the last two days of Christmas. What do they represent?"

I laughed softly. "Oh, right. Well, the eleventh day is actually the eleven faithful apostles. Something about a symphony... I have no idea what makes pipes so holy, but I probably would have picked a nice cello myself. And today, the last day is supposed to be the twelve points of believe in the Apostle's Creed. Apparently that's what the whole church was founded on. And now, it's something you know that you didn't really need to know."

Kyle had a slightly distant look on his face, but he smiled at me while I spoke. He was paying attention, but probably not entirely to what I was saying. He was just blissfully watching me. "That's alright. I don't plan on converting. I just had to know, you make it sound so interesting."

"I think you just like looking at my face."

"That might be true. I missed it while I was comatose. I could hear you, but I couldn't see you. And that was kind of a bummer."

"You have a lot of time to memorize it." I tapped his chest lightly. "And loads of time to hear me talk. You'll get tired of it eventually. For now, at least rest a little."

Kyle scoffed. "You realize I was just sleeping for like, two weeks right?"

"You don't have to sleep. Just shut up, I'll hold you, and we can lay in silence for a while."

He sighed, but didn't seem too opposed to the idea. We shifted on the tiny bed, and he still fit against me like he was always meant to be there. This time, his head was the one to carefully tuck under my chin. His breathing against my collarbone was about as even could get, but there were still disruptions. Beautiful little hitches and sighs that reminded me that he was the one doing the actions now, and not a machine. I closed my eyes and stroked his arm lazily with the tips of my fingers until he settled down and started to drift off again. I wasn't afraid of letting him go to sleep. Because I knew that his eyes would open once more. And when they connected with mine, it would be just as magical as the first time.

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> a song that i think fits well with this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USc118Jbll8 (Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors by The Editors)


End file.
